The American Warrior
by Valacor
Summary: Can a young Immortal from our time defeat a Roman General from 2000 years ago? Possibly, but only with the help of Duncan MacLeod.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Highlander. That privilege goes to Davis/Panzer productions. **

**PROLOGUE**

**St. Joseph's Chapel**

**Paris, France**

**12 years ago**

A storm raged. Violent wind and rain blew hard against a small catholic church, as loud thunder and bright lightning siezed the skies. Inside the church, a solitary man kneeled, praying. Like everybody else in Paris, he too, heard the incredible strom outside. His prayer included the hope that any who were out now would be safe, and that all homes and other buildings would provide adequete protection for all who were indoors.

The man, a monk, began finishing his prayer. He did the cross sign, then stated, "Amen." Standing, he let out a sigh. Something irked him about the storm. He'd seen many, many stroms, but never one this bad. It was if the demons of hell were trying to destroy Paris. Or, at least, the church.

**"I fear this might be a sign," **he thought. **"Could this possibly mark the beginning of the Gathering?"**

As he began walking to his quarters, a ripple went through his body and mind. He stopped short, wondering what man could brave this storm. For that ripple could only suggest the presence of someone like him. He walked to the front doors, confident that no matter who it was, he would be safe.

Suddenly, before he could reach them, the doors opened, revealing the figure of a man. The monk squinted his eyes, hoping to identify his uninvited guest.

"Hello, Darius," said the figure. Cold amusement could be heard in his voice.

Sudden fear gripped Darius as he recognized his intruder. "Titan?"

The figure laughed. "Well, well. So the rumors **are **true after all. You're a monk! Who'd have thought, eh?"

"Titan, you're alive!" exclaimed Darius. The former fear now left, as he once again reminded himself of where he was. His old advesary could not hurt him here.

"Yes, I am. And I've come to say hello!" Titan laughed again. Darius noticed he still had not stepped inside.

"Doubtful," said Darius. "No doubt you were hoping the 'rumors' were not true so you could kill me."

"Now that hurts Darius. Prehaps what I really want is too confess." Now Titan sounded mocking. Such a tone did not escape Darius' notice.

"Quit lying, Titan! We both know that you have never believed in any deity. Not even the Roman Gods!"

"Fair enough, Darius," said Titan, solemnly. "My true purpose here is two-fold. First, I want to ask if you know the Highlander?"

"I do," said Darius. Of course he knew the Highlander. He'd met him on a battlefield years ago. The Battle of Waterloo, as a matter of fact. "Why, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. He's responsible for all the rumors surrounding my 'death'. Thankfully, I was able to trade places with a guard, so that **he** got the guillotine." He smirked. "I was hoping, for old times sake, that you could tell me where he was."

Darius carefully considered. He knew that the Highlander, better known as Duncan MacLeod, was an able fighter. However, he also knew how dangerous Titan was.

"No," he said finally. "I will not let you kill so good an Immortal as Duncan MacLeod."

Titan laughed. "Ah, well. It was worth a try." He smirked again and turned too leave. "Be seein' you Darius. Remember: don't stray too far off Holy Ground."

As he made too leave, however, Darius called him back. "Wait! What was the other purpose?"

Titan stopped, and turned back. "Do you remember a young Immortal named Tiberius?"

"Yes," Darius replyed slowly. "He too was a good Immortal." Although the monk felt a wave of guilt remembering that he hadn't cared at the time.

"Well, it just so happens he's still alive. And I'm going to finish what I started with his wife all those years ago. And his name in this time, is Travis Newberry. If you see him, give him a message; tell him, I'm back."

As Titan thus disappeared into the night, his dark laughter rang through the halls of St. Joseph's and down Darius' spine. And he prayed silently that the young warrior, where ever he was, would be safe.

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**A/N: Well, I hope you like this first segment. For anybody who didn't know, (which was actually me before I wrote this), is that St. Joseph's is actually a fictional church in Paris, not a real one. Please review and let me know what you think.**


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